


The Quest of One

by WarlordMan162



Series: The Quest of One:re [1]
Category: The Lorien Legacies - All Media Types, The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Alternate Universes (not what you think), Blood and Violence, Brotherhood, Friendship/Love, Gen, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reading, Resolved Love Triangles, Sexual Content, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5904547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlordMan162/pseuds/WarlordMan162
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the beginning there were more of us. Far more. We have been on Earth for years, hiding, assimilating, and preparing for an interspecies war. A war that we did not want to fight. A war that resulted in the decimation of my world, Lorien.</p><p>We know they are here, the Mogadorians, the aliens that killed my people. They are hunting us, in the order of our Numbers. And they will not stop until we are all dead. Then they will rape Planet Earth of its resources just like they did mine. We cannot let that happen again.</p><p>I am Number One.</p><p>I know they'll be coming for me first. Let them.</p><p>I will be known as the One who protected the Eight.</p><p>I will make them pay!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Assault in Malaysia

**Author's Note:**

> This is the reedited version. I have changed it because of plot errors and edits I have been thinking of for the past three months. I will release the fully reedited version in a few months on ff.net once I have finished it here and on Wattpad.
> 
> THIS IS ON TEMPORARY HIATUS UNTIL OCTOBER!!! I NEED TO MAKE SOME CHANGES!

I open my eyes to see that I am home. I look around our wooden shack. It’s right on top of the Rajang River, water rushing right underneath the cracked floorboards. My head hangs over the side of the mattress, leaving me with an annoying crick in my neck. A throbbing feeling overcomes the back of my head and the base of my spine. Hilde must already be awake—I stay completely still. I’d really prefer not to have my Keeper wake me for aikido training.

“They’re coming,” she breathes.

I turn to see my Cêpan. Her curly silver hair flows down her shoulders as she peers through the slit in the door, the wrinkles in her face less prominent, like she’s just seen a ghost or something. But I know she’s ready to fight. Somebody out there is coming to attack us. Noticing I am awake, she rushes to me, pulling me out of bed, into the warm humid air. The silver and blue dermis I’m wearing fits like a second skin. The derma are suits we once wore on Lorien, supposed to keep us feeling secure in stressful situations where the Garde may need to use our Legacies.

Right now, the dermis doesn’t give me any comfort, making me feel exposed to our imminent battle. For the past few years we have evaded the aliens here on Earth. I have never seen one of them up close. I’ve managed to stay alive, even though I know am the first to die when it comes down to it. But in reality, I’m not sure if I am actually ready to face a Mogadorian.

Hilde’s eyes fall on me. She must realize I’m not prepared for this. I expect for her to find some miraculous way to get us the fuck out of here, but all she does is pull my Loric Chest from underneath her bed. Hilde takes the lock in her hand, and I reach out a telekinetic grasp to open it. She showed me how to do this, to open my Inheritance with TK, a few months ago when we started back training. That was a long time ago, before I started being Unity Jenkins—that stupid surfer bitch who'd spent her time smoking weed with her friends on the beach, who let herself get arrested trying to get some records for a human guy.

With the Chest open, she plucks out the one thing I know for sure will help us in a battle. It’s a beige hilt half a meter long, three zaffre symbols carved in a row on its side. The tip of the hilt expands in a coal-colored blade, taking the form of a long dagger. Just when Hilde is about to pass the weapon to me, the monsters kick down the door.

The three at the door are different than the ones I have seen in pictures. These Mogs have paler, almost translucent skin, with soulless eyes completely black. Long dark hair flows from their heads, disappearing into the trench coats outlining their burly figure. They must be the artificial types of Mogadorians.

The first one at the door approaches with a teal green dagger in hand, and lunges for Hilde. My Keeper is faster. She dodges the glowing blade with a speed even I haven’t accessed yet. When the Mog comes back around and regains his balance she crushes his windpipe with her own dagger. Hilde doesn’t even use the blade, just the pommel of the weapon and slams it into the creature’s throat. As he starts to collapse into himself, Hilde whirls over to the next Mog, snapping his neck. I notice that they’re coming in one by one, probably because they are fearful of her attacks.

Another Mogadorian comes in and places her in a headlock. I immediately get up on my feet to help, but she’s okay. In a move so subtle I barely even see it, Hilde flips the alien onto his back. Somehow I know what is coming: Hilde is about to die. Almost as if time slows down, I notice the Mog reaching for a plated gun on his hip. I have to stop this!

“Look out!” I yell to Hilde, reaching out to her, even though I know nothing will happen to help my Keeper.

Except something actually does.

I don’t really know how to describe it. Something new yet vaguely familiar opens up inside me, something I’m surprised I never noticed before. This something zips up my spinal cord, causing a painless throb in the center of my brain. The wood below my feet cracks and a jagged, slanted column of rock tears through the floor and hits Hilde in the side. She flies about two meters, slamming into the wall. I realize that I have stepped right into the path of the Mogadorian’s blaster. He has already pulled the trigger by the time I lift up my hands to brace myself for the attack.

Instead of the cobalt blue energy scorching my arms, it never comes. In fact, when I open my eyes, the bolt of energy is hovering in between the attacker and I. Energy seems to bubble up inside the arms in my veins, and I immediately realize I have control of this weapon’s projectile. It morphs while in midair, my hands crackling with a similar energy. Although my power feels cleaner, a defense mechanism forming out of my own body, purifying this corrupted projectile from the gun and making it something new.

I collect the cobalt blue energy into a cone and launch it into the Mog’s terrified face. It melts the alien’s face. He doesn’t disintegrate...like the others. It takes a longer time, his leg tissue and some jagged ribs remaining. I have just killed my first Mogadorian. Killed with a Legacy someone in my family used. My cousin Orion. He used the same power to kill one of the Mogadorian creatures that attacked us that day.

All that fear I had transcends into rage. The energy from my arms and “the something” from my lower back changes, flowing throughout my body, my core surging with a power that I feel will come spilling out from me as a waterfall of emotions.

An element I cannot describe seeps from my bones, then my blood, a shock of electricity conducting into every cell until it rolls across my skin. It flows underneath my dermis, burning away an unwanted weight, but I don’t know where the weight is coming from. My vision is distorted by striking blue particles. They flurry around my eyes until forming into a face. It’s a boy, about my age, but he seems a bit off. Something appears to be missing, separating us by species. The boy is alien. Not human, though—Mogadorian. I don’t know why the first vision I see is a Mog. Suddenly, the face is not a vision anymore. The Mogadorian appears right in front of me.

He falls to the ground, then to his knees. I look down at the Mog to see my feet. They aren’t touching the ground. I’m hovering two feet off the floor, above the randomly appeared Mogadorian boy vomiting at my feet. The ground crunches up and shatters around us. An earthquake. I’m making an earthquake while in mid-flight, right after I teleported someone to me. What is going on?

The walls collapse outward. Outside, I see Hilde. She’s morphed the hilt into a tomahawk, hacking Mogadorians to pieces. Some of them don’t disintegrate at all, while most get ashed by a single strike. Hilde turns toward me, watching in awe how I’m floating out of the rubble of our crumpled shack, the ground bursting and crunching, cobalt energy illuminating free from the thin chasms made by my newfound Legacies.

Hilde manages to cut off a Mogadorian’s forearm. The arm has a cannon fused to it, before it falls limply away from the pale, beefy hand. She backs away from the Mog as he lies down and does the impossible: his forearm slowly begins to grow back. My Keeper takes the gun and sprints backward into the rubble of our shack, past the cracks and crevices made by my earthquake.

I lower myself to the ground. The Mogadorian is still spilling the contents of his stomach all over the cracked floorboards, stumbling onto his knees. While I’m grinning about this experience, Hilde takes my opened Inheritance and shoves it into my arms.

“Pack!” she yells before taking the cannon and pulling the trigger. Nothing happens.

I start shoveling a few pairs of clothes and some bottles of water into my Chest and our backpacks. Over my shoulder, I see Hilde stab Mogadorians as they prowl closer. Eventually she gets a working gun and starts firing at the remaining attackers. Once I have everything packed I throw a bag over my shoulder and grab my Inheritance. There must be plenty of stuff I am leaving behind, but I don’t have time to sort out fake IDs and birth certificates.

The Mogadorians have spread out now, but all their forces are focused at the front of the shack. We can sneak around back while they continue hitting the abandoned shack. I gesture to Hilde when she turns back around to see me. The attacks stop, and my Keeper takes her weapon and prepares to put down the ailing boy.  
“No!” I yell before steadying myself. “Don’t kill him.”

Hilde loosens her grip on the trigger. I can see the wheels turning in her head, trying to decide whether or not she should kill the boy in front of us. He may be Mogadorian, but he’s just a kid. There’s more to it than that. I am not above watching people die in cold blood, unless it’s unnecessary.

“...We can use him for intel,” I throw in to sway her.

Before Hilde can respond, a blue bolt zips above us, melting into a broken piece of wall. She takes the handle of the dagger and clips the already torpid Mog on the head. He’s unconscious immediately. HIlde picks him up and flings him over her shoulder, and tells me a phrase I thought I'd never hear.

“No shredder.”

It means there is no time to clear any evidence of our existence in the current location. And with that, we flee into the early morning shade that engulfs the jungle. The gunfire stops, and I hear shouts in their native language in the background. I increase the range of my hearing to find out where they’re coming from when they follow us into the woods. Only they never do.

The Mogadorians don’t come after us. I turn to see black smoke rising above the canopy. They must have decided to burn the shack, assuming the fire would kill Hilde and me. It’s comforting to know they’ve stopped hunting me...for now. I allow myself a smile, knowing it’ll be the last time I feel relief or joy in a very long time.


	2. The Legacies Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the attack in Malaysia, One must make it through the jungle to escape the Mogs and her own hysteria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a YouTube vid online that you can watch alongside this if you like. It serves as a trailer for the entire story as well. This video is also called "The Legacies Live." You'll be able to notice it because my name on YouTube is The OCD Precognitive.

"One, hurry up!" Hilde yells.

I run alongside her. The jungle flows past us, noises of the wildlife echo in the distance. We must be running close to sixty miles per hour. The Mogadorians will never be able to catch up to us if we keep going at this speed! We'll survive, unless the natural-born ones can get to that velocity. Until now, Hilde and I have never really been able to study one of them. Now that we might actually have one, he's unconscious. Although, something is really aching at the back of my mind.

"What the hell was that back there?" I exclaim. She doesn't seem to notice until we slow down the pace. "What was crazy powerup back there?"

"ONE!" she shouts in my face. Apparently she had been calling my name for a while.

"What?"

Hilde looks past me, back toward the destroyed riverbank. Her eyes are consumed with worry. "They're here."

I turn around and see lights in the distance. Red lights that tear through the shadows of the thicket. They could be drones, or Mogadorian flashlights, I don't know. All I can think about is that we need to get out of here. Without warning, I sprint off into the woods.

I run faster than I ever have in my entire life. All I can think about is if they catch up to me, I'll die. The Mogadorians will hunt me down and kill me like some common game. Eventually I make it to a clearing. I don't know how far I've run, or for how long. The Chest drops to the ground, tumbling into the grass. I slip my pack off any throw it into the bushes just as something stabs me straight through the back.

It feels as if something has punched me through the heart. The pain isn't enough to make me topple over, but I do pull out the hilt that Hilde returned to me before we escaped. I take the hilt in both hands as the ends expand into thin, serrated black blades, both about a meter long. The weapon has taken on the form of some sort of double-bladed glaive.

I turn around, searching for where the attack is coming from. Something continues to tear into my heart, but now it feels more like being shot. If they've managed to shoot me, that means they must have already caught up with Hilde. Did they kill her? Am I next?

Another stab, harder and deadlier than before. These tears, they happen so periodically, it's almost like a heartbeat. My heartbeat. This is the same thing that happened four years ago, back in Coahuila when Hilde told me about the Mogs in the city. When I woke up, she told me I had a panic attack. And that I had finally developed telekinesis.

Whatever happened that day, I am pretty sure it's happening again. My blood runs cold, and I collapse to the ground. No Mogadorians around, just my own personal freakout. The noises fade away, everything around me becoming a blur. I don't know where the plants end and the sky begins. I keel over, my heart as if it's about to beat out of my chest. Just as I am about to close my eyes, someone tells me otherwise.

"Calm down," I am told. "You are not out of the woods yet, Little Flower."

I don't have the physical strength to speak, but I still manage to whisper it, somehow, through my mind. "Who are you?"

"We will meet soon, Little Flower," he replies. Judging from the voice, I can tell that whoever is talking to me is obviously Loric. They sound about my age, maybe a year or two older. It's male. "You have to gain control. Your Elkin Surge has not gone through the full cycle."

"My what?"

"The energy is still in your system. This increase in blood circulation is pushing it through your body. If this continues, it will destroy you."

"How do I get rid of it?"

"You cannot, Little Flower. It can only be changed through your willpower to control the energy within your body. However you can do this at an easier level. Your Legacy will accelerate the process. Its epicenter is the heart."

"Epicenter?" nothing this thing says is making any sense, but I'd prefer not to die right now, so I'll listen to anything.

Everything is dark now, aside from the cobalt blue specks flitting around me. I force it down, the energy protesting to return to my core. I feel all of my energy drained from my limbs, a sort of cosmic hypothermia.

"Very good, Little Flower," he says. "But you will have to lie there for a moment."

"Great, thanks," I mutter. "I don't even know where I am, dude."

Something tickles against my skin. I guess this is what it's like when this thing laughs.

"The energy of your Legacies is residing at your genetic epicenter. It requires the natural energy of your circulatory and respiratory system to survive. The epicenter has shut down your motor skills in order to protect itself. You are dormant for now. So you will need to lie there while the energy reenters the rest of your body."

"Energy and stuff, awesome," I reply. "Thanks, uh..."

"I have no use for names, Little Flower, not anymore," he says. "We have never met personally, although we spent one year together on a spacecraft."

"You're one of the Garde?"

"Yes."

"What number are you?"

"You will find out. We will meet soon. Good luck, Little Flower."

"Wait! I still don't underst—"

I wake up. The clearing is engulfed in sunlight, a column of light surrounded on all sides by darkness. Dew glistens upon the perfect blades of grass. I roll onto my back to see an almost perfect ring made from the canopy. The sun beats down, in the very center of the sky. A few fluffy clouds pass by. It must be early noon.

Something cold and flat presses under my shoulder. I manage to find a handle and slip the object out from under me, holding it in the air with telekinesis. It's the glaive from my Inheritance. A weapon forged on Lorien, my homeworld. According to Hilde, the blade is so strong that it can never be destroyed.

Hilde. As if on cue, she emerges from the darkness before I can even start to worry about where she is. I sit up and let the glaive drop to my side. Hilde tosses her pack into the center of the clearing before taking the Mogadorian boy from her shoulder and throwing him down on the ground. He lands on his back, still unconscious.

"Hey," I say, still a bit groggy from the telepathic communication or whatever I had with some sort of entity.

Hilde smiles, nodding to me as she plops down next to her bag. "Do you realize how fast you ran?"

I stare at her, not sure why this, out of all things, matters.

"You went nearly a hundred miles per hour. It took me three hours to walk here, but I'm pretty sure you made it to this clearing in under a minute. They stopped following us about ten minutes after you ran for it. That energy really does boost your Legacies."

"So you know what happened?" I ask. "What that crazy thing back there was?"

She doesn't answer at first. "I've never seen it before, only read about it. I was told that there would be less than a one percent chance this could happen."

"What is it? That elkin thing?"

"How did you know that?" asks Hilde. "I've never even spoken of it."

"Someone told me," I attempt to explain, trying not to sound crazy. "I had this weird...communication after I stopped running."

"With another Garde?"

"I think so. Whoever it was, he was talking really weird, telling me how to contain my energy. He kept calling me 'Little Flower.' What did that even mean?"

Hilde actually laughs at this, and while it sounds genuine, I can't help but hear the slightest bit of guilt in her tone. "When you turned five, a feast was held near a building. Do you remember what it was called?"

Memories from Lorien don't come as easily to me. Honestly, my planet seems like a dream now. I was nine years old when we left, yet I can barely remember when I was that age and I don't know why. But some things get through. Like right now, if I concentrate, I can sort of remember what she was talking about. Structures taller than any building I've ever seen.

"The Spires of Elkin, right?" I ask.

"Yes," she clarifies. "They were named after the Elder Elkin. He managed to enhance the speed of Legacy development by concentrating on the epicenter of his Legacies. They all reside in a ventricle of the heart. It created a burst of energy that was later known as an Elkin Surge. If you can control it, you'll forever have a power unlike any other Legacy. Although, aside from Elkin, only four Garde have managed to accomplish the Surge. You, Number One, are one of those four Garde."

"Wow, really?" I can't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by this whole thing. "That's insane."

"And, in case you were wondering, your grandparents used to take you to Eilon Park every week. You really loved the flowers."

"Okay, well aside from the obvious side effect of developing like half a dozen Legacies at once, how do I control this surge power or whatever?"

"Patience, One," Hilde says in her normal stern voice. "We'll start by handling the Legacies you have developed."

Before we settle in, we tie up the Mogadorian with vines we've braided together. He's still unconscious. I only get a moment to actually get a good look at the Mogadorian. Although I saw them in battle, the creature slumped against the tree isn't anything like the others I briefly encountered. Not at all as fearsome as the monsters I've feared for the past five years.

He looks around my age or just a bit younger. His skin is milky white, a strong nose, without the gill-like slits I've seen on some of the others. Black hair, like all of them, except cropped shorter. I can't get the image of him spilling the contents of his stomach all over the shack.

"What happened to him earlier?" I ask when we start opening the bags I packed to set up camp. "At the river?"

"You must have compressed some of his organs," she explains callously, "when you teleported him to us."

"I can teleport?"

"Yes, but it is a very dangerous Legacy if you do not know how to use it," Hilde says, and I know I'm about to get a lecture. "Without proper training, a Garde can end up severely injuring themselves with Teleportation, or others around them. It requires you to move every molecule in your body and arrange it back into perfect form. We'll need to work with this Legacy the most."

"So I guess that means I can't use it until it's mastered" I say. "You know, I can't just teleport us to Hawaii or something if we're almost caught by the Mogs?"

"It only works in a certain range. Even on Lorien with mastery, some Garde couldn't travel more than three hundred feet. You'd need a Rift—a Loralite Ore that can teleport you from across the world even without the Legacy of Teleportation. There are some here on Earth as well, but they aren't like the ones on Lorien. You need to actually be able to teleport."

"Well then why don't we just dig up one of these Rifts and get out of here?" I ask. I find it kind of weird that Earth has Loralite running through it and Hilde waited until now to tell me.

"There were hundreds of Rifts on Lorien, but here we only know of at least six," Hilde explains. "And I don't think any of them are near Malaysia or Japan."

"We were going to go to Japan next?"

Hilde dumps the contents of her bag out onto the grass, shaking her head at my poor packing. "Not like this, we aren't. There's barely anything in here, One!"

"We were in a hurry!" I reply, annoyed. "What was I supposed to do?"

"What's our ideal?"

I sigh. We always do this whenever she's reproachful toward something I do. But I'm not even sure if she's using the term 'ideal' correctly. "Time lies in months, not days. Always prepare for attack, since attack can always happen. No readiness equals no shredder."

"Thank you," she grumbles, reading the sarcasm that filled my voice. Hilde zips up her empty bag and pulls out a blanket. "We can make do with these supplies for a while, but we'll need to set a perimeter. A wall. You need to dig a moat as well."

"Um, are you gonna help, or..."

"Not like that," Hilde says. "With your Terra Motus."

"You mean the Legacy that caused all the earthquakes and stuff?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Its epicenter is at the base of the spine, making it easy to access through meditation."

"Makes sense."

"It's a very common Legacy, almost as common as Sonic Flight, which you also have."

"On Lorien," I ask, "how many Garde did you train with Terra Motus."

She thinks for a moment. "Thirty, maybe less. But only about twelve of them started off this power with an earthquake. It normally develops first with just moving a rock. This Legacy is connected to the Wraith and even the members of Pyrré."

"Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"Long ago, some of the first Garde created societies known as the Troikan Clans. They were called Hælan, Wraith, and Pyrré. All of them lived underneath the rule of the Elders. The Clans had distinct Legacies that were the pioneers for many of the current ones you and the Eight will grow into."

"These clans, what powers did they have?"

"The Members of the Wraith had elemental Legacies. Some of them even managed to access the Elkin Surge. Other than that, they had Flight, Telepathy, the basics. Although many of them had the Legacy of Chameleor, which was a power of invisibility that only one percent of the population develops.

"Hælan lived in the Terrax Ocean. They were practically what Humans would call mermaids or sirens. They had Legacies like aquatic respiration, nightsight, and of course they could manipulate water."

"I think I've heard of Terrax before," I say.

"You should have," she replies. "Our ship was called the Terrax Cruiser."

"Wait, so how does flight work?"

"All Loric naturally have pneumatic cavities in their bones, sort of like avian creatures on this planet. That's why we are naturally agile and physically superior to Humans. It is just that some of the Garde have the ability to propel themselves through the air from a chemical reaction in the gene that grants you telekinesis. It has access over the whole body like an Elkin Surge. Most Legacies rely on outlet points in the hands, feet, eyes, places like that."

"So the outlet point in the hands is what Orion's Legacy operated on?" I ask. "The blue energy blast thing?"

"You remember your cousin Orion?"

I nod, feeling a bit of pride.

"That Legacy is called Energeia. It's one of many that are directly connected to the primary epicenter. The outlet points through the hands, and they require a lot of energy. You'll probably experience a icy feeling in your palms when you use it."

"Is it my Major Legacy?" I ask. Although I'm excited to have a Legacy that can finally hurt the Mogs, I wish I had managed to work at it.

"It depends," answers Hilde. "If you were a normal Garde, it would be, but if you were... something else, it's just as regular as another Legacy like aquatic respiration."

"What do you mean if I were something else?"

"There are certain Garde with certain powers that you're not exactly ready—"

"Just explain what you're trying to say," I reply. "I want to know."

Hilde hesitates before standing up, probably to walk over to the edge of the clearing. "We need to get started on that wall."

"We'll work on the wall," I stand in front of her, "after you tell me what I am."

Hilde sighs. "You might want to sit down."

We both lower ourselves into the grass. I wait patiently for her to tell me what's up.

"You, Number One, are a Millenary," she starts. "So are the other Eight."

"What the hell is a Millenary?" I ask, confused.

"On occasion, once every five Loric generations, a handful of Garde are born with the strongest Legacy-containing genes of their generation. While every five generations happens every so often, they're more often to show up every one thousand years. They're descendents from the Troikan Clans."

"But... wait, you told me that we were supposed to take on the roles of the Elders."

"Yes, I did," she says. "You will need to be the Elders in order to rebuild Lorien."

"So, these Millenaries, we're like a last resort?"

"No! Of course not. Even on Lorien, the Millenaries had a difficult time being accepted by society. Having so much power would make for a very stressful time, having to control said abilities in a world where so many people would not understand."

Like being an alien with strange powers on a world she barely understands. It sort of makes me feel less alone.

"How many are there? Was it just the nine of us, or was the Tenth one as well?"

The Tenth Garde was given the charm, just like the rest of us. However, they were killed before making it to the launch site. It made sense when she said we were the actual "Elders," seeing as there were originally ten of us. But now, it could just be a coincidence.

"Including the nine of you, there were dozens of Millenaries on Lorien. You were all given Keepers at ages three or four. But out of nearly fifty of you, only the nine of you made it off the planet. Another Millenary, a little bit older than you, accidentally launched himself off-world two weeks before the Invasion. However it was reported that he survived."

Well that sucks.

"But if this one Millenary managed to leave Lorien, how do you know that other ships didn't escape?"

"Because when the Mogadorians attacked, they destroyed our Ports first," she explains. "Our defense weapons on the Ports weren't as sophisticated as theirs. They decimated any means of escape."

"I thought you said the Mogadorians were primitive compared to us," I say. "They were only starting to develop advanced technology."

"I can't answer that part."

"Whoa, this is all...wow," I press my palm to my forehead, feeling the icy buzz of energy within my palms. "I think I'm good on information and stuff for one day."

Afterward she helps me build the wall. It's easier to do than create an earthquake, but leaves me with a massive headache. After the end of it, we have a meter high dirt wall encircled by a six-foot-deep, four-foot-wide moat. We've set up blankets at the center of the clearing. It's about five in the afternoon now. There's still about an hour of daylight left. The Mog is awake now, but Hilde gagged him the minute she saw him stirring. Still, that doesn't stop him from staring at me with those dark, seemingly soulless eyes. His expression is blank, as far as I can tell.

"What're you going to do with him?" I ask. "Kill him?"

"Right now, nothing," Hilde answers. "In the morning, I'll extract as much information from him as I can, then kill him."

"Extract information," I repeat. "You mean torture."

"Yes, One, I mean torture," she says curtly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The Mog looks unfazed at her comment. He just keeps looking at us. Doesn't blink at all.

"He won't stop staring," I change the subject.

Hilde looks at the alien sitting against the tree and shrugs. "Then don't look."

My Keeper then rests on the ground. She takes her pack and places it underneath her head. "We're safe for now, One. When I get a chance to be diurnal, I'll accept it. Get some rest. We get back to work at dawn."

I slip down onto my blanket, hands behind my head. I still can't believe I survived. Earth's sky darkens, the azure dimming into gold before melting into a lavender shade. The first glimpse of the stars appear. I manage to identify Lorien's sun after about twenty minutes, once the night consumes whatever is left of the day. It's still warm, still humid. The dermis doesn't do much to shield me from the heat. Hilde dozes off very quickly, her breathing steady and soft.

Now that she's asleep, I raise my right hand above my face. Energy crackles free from my palm, icy pins and needles occurring within my arm from where the misty blue plume of energy must have originated from. All this power at my disposal fills me with relief. Not only did I survive the Mogadorians, but I have a rare ability that can increase the speed of my Legacy development.

We can finally fight back.

We can finally defeat these monsters.

My sudden burst of confidence somehow causes the elkin energy to glow brighter. Light spills through the lines in my hand. I look over to my left to see the Mogadorian, still tied against the tree, still gagged. Still staring at me. And I stare at him. This boy is my mortal enemy. He's a genocidal maniac just like the rest of his people. I don't know why I felt uncomfortable when Hilde said she was going to torture and kill him. I should be happy he's going to die.

But I'm not.

We continue looking at each other. Eventually, I let my mind relax, realizing that he's not going anywhere. The Mogadorian will not kill me as long as we're here. I drop the energy field from my palm and drift asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you hadn't guessed already, the Mogadorian they captured is Adamus Sutkeh. And I didn't just have One teleport him there because plot and that type of crap. He was teleported over because of a certain essence within him as well. I'm not going to tell you what it is yet, but let's just say he's something known as a MID. His POV is featured in the next chapter.


	3. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driven by fear of their near-death experience, Hilde decides to get answers from their captive...with any force necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is narrated by Adam.

I end up staying awake all night, which is not all too difficult, considering the fact I don't really need to sleep. Dawn comes in what feels like the blink of an eye, but I know it's been about seven hours. The older alien is an "early bird," as Mortals would say. I notice the creature turning to look at me. Before she can notice, I shut my eyes and allow my body to go lax. Hopefully she'll assume I am asleep and leave me alone.

No such luck.

SPLASH. A cold, wet blast slams against my face. I cough out the water, causing an uncomfortable tickling feeling in my throat that shocks me back into reality. I see the alien holding a large, hollowed out tree branch, as a sort of makeshift bucket. I don't know when or how she made it, but I don't really care. I have just made an unfortunate mistake, allowing myself to be captured by one of them.

"Hey, I need you to focus!" she says, hitting me in the side of the head. "Can you understand me?"

"Go drink from a vat," I say. In English.

"I'll take that as a yes. Your base—it's in North America. I could tell by the insignias on your people's uniforms. Why don't we start by where your home exactly is?"

In Vaalhuran, the native Mogadorian language, I reply, "Far away."

The woman's face contorts. The lines of age carve into her face, making her resemble one of those huge red and black striped creatures that live in these types of environments on this planet. For a second I think she's going to strike me again, but her gaze softens. The alien is obviously trying to mask her anger.

It doesn't work for long.

"I'm going to ask you again," she clinches her fist and I prepare for the blow, "where is your base?"

I remain silent, mostly because I'm distracted by the younger alien behind her. She's watching from her blanket on the ground. Her expression is indiscernible. I can't tell if the being is angry or concerned, and for some reason I care. I shouldn't care whatsoever, but—

"Stop looking at her," the older woman growls, clearly losing patience. "How many of you are there on Earth?"

No response. After about twenty seconds I feel the swift CRACK against my head. It's followed by another punch, then another. Each one leaves a sickening battered sensation on my skin. Blood spills out of my nose. This is growing very uncomfortable. It's a bit painful, but bearable. Well, at least the first few jabs are.

The alien hits me again on the side of my head, the blow crushing into my left ear. I scream out louder than I ever have before. So loud that the old woman steps back and stares at me, confused. I try to keel over, eliminate the pain, but nothing I do while tied to this damn tree helps. After a few seconds the woman kicks me in the stomach. My eyes bulge, and I feel like my head is going to explode. I'm still not over that weird vomiting episode yesterday.

I'm pretty sure the woman is about to hit me again when the younger alien yells, "Hilde, stop it!"

"We need for him to talk," the older woman, Hilde, replies hoarsely. "You said you wanted them to pay for what they've done? This is how that'll happen."

"But not like this," I want to keep listening, but my ears start to ring as my left starts to heal back. My stomach decompresses back to normal, and the bruise against my core fades away. I never had to account for the way pain works since now. Mogadorians have a remarkable healing system; I feel like new in just a few minutes.

"I'm fine," I interrupt. The girl looks relieved for a split second before glaring hard at me. "But I'm not telling you crap."

***

Hilde has stopped her interrogation attempt. Maybe she got tired, or realized that I wasn't going to talk. But then again, if she realized that I would probably be dead now. Instead, I'm still tied to this tree, with a black sack covering my entire head. The Loric are highly unintelligent as far as I am concerned. We should have relocated by now—it's suicide for them to stay in one place after such a fresh attack. This is why my people always catch up to them.

When I'm pretty sure I have been sitting here for almost six hours, I hear approaching footsteps. The bag is swiftly removed from my head, a mask of brightness thrown upon me by the sunlight. It takes a few seconds for my vision to adjust, and I see the girl standing above me. She's holding another hollowed out branch, only this one is a bit smaller. Droplets of water cascade down the bark.

She kneels down in front of me. I can actually see her in detail for the first time. Not as some sort of hidden assassin I had imagined the Garde as, or the floating being of pure energy I saw yesterday, but as an actual organic person.

Her blond hair is wavy and flows past her shoulders, almost radiant in the afternoon light. The Garde's head is perfectly-shaped, her nose small yet pronounced, unlike mine. Her eyes are almond-shaped, and blue. But they aren't blue like the glow you might see on a Baakh Sword. They're blue like the ocean, or what I have pictured the ocean to look like. And I have the imagined the ocean to be ongoing, eternal, deep. Just like the Garde's eyes. They don't have an end, seeming to just go on forever—

Where did those thoughts come from? I think. This creature is what stands in the way of Mogadorian Progress.

Wherever the hell that reaction to her came from, I shove it down. If I survive and manage to get home, the General, my father, will want to know what I have learned about the Loric. I don't think he will be too eager to hear about my slight attraction to the physical appearance of our sworn enemy.

"Drink," the girl says.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Drink," she repeats, harsher than before. "We can't have you getting dehydrated."

"Then I won't get dehydrated," I reply, glaring up at her. "I don't need your water, Loric."

Her eyes transform. The ocean turns into a storm. There's literally energy cracking within them like lightning when she furrows her sparse eyebrows in anger and annoyance. The blond leaves the makeshift bottle on the ground in front of me before standing up and trudging away. Seeing her like that, mad and frustrated, tears me apart. I can't explain why. Like I said multiple times, I shouldn't care! But even with my restraints, and with my knowledge that she is looking at me with her peripheral vision which is more of the reason I shouldn't do this, I reach over and grab the cup.

I pour it into my mouth, not realizing how little I've had to drink in the past few days. Thirst is an awful feeling. I—like all Trueborn—was born with a conversion system in my body. When I get hungry, my body will feed off its own nutrients, which will multiply in order to keep me healthy. When I get thirsty, the high salt concentration will transform into water and other fluids. But even with our biological enhancements, we cannot change how uncomfortable the absence of food or water feels.

The earthy taste of the bark touches my tongue after the last few drips of the liquid flow down my mouth. I say thanks, but I doubt the Garde can hear me. I stare up at the sky as it slowly darkens, the sun getting higher above the canopy. They must have forgotten to put the bag over my head again. I haven't exactly been paying attention to their camp, but I feel as if they have been active for the past few hours.

Smoke rises from their camp, bombarding my senses with hundreds of new smells. I look down at the fire only to see Hilde approaching with a knife. She cuts my vines, then grabs my shoulder and shoves me from the tree. I manage to get my balance as she leads me over to the fire.

They have taken control of this whole clearing—there's a dirt wall keeping us holed in, and judging from the indentation of the soil, they must have dug a moat as well. I don't understand why they built a camp so close to where they were last. Or why my people haven't sent a Unit to kill them and retrieve me.

I am forced to sit down next to the blond girl. Hilde sits across from us, staring daggers at me. Next to her is the knife she freed me with, although I don't exactly feel free now.

The old woman pushes over a wooden tray of small reddish objects. I wouldn't be surprised if they were some type of insect.

"Eat," Hilde says.

I hesitate before asking, "What is in it?"

Hilde narrows her eyes, causing new lines to carve their way into her cheeks."If you think poison is the way we're going to kill you, then you are very—"

"We're not going to kill you," the blond girl interrupts, although I can still sense her exasperation. "Just eat it."

I pick up one of the small red objects and toss it into my mouth. The outer shell is tough, but on the inside it has a flavor I have never even imagined. I don't know if it's some sort of bug or what, but compared to the artificial rations back on Mogadore, this food is better than a five-star restaurant's. Of course I'd never admit that to them.

"I don't understand," I continue. "You've obviously given up interrogating me. What's stopping you from killing me right now?"

"What's stopping you from tossing a pill into your mouth to keep us from learning your location?" Hilde asks.

"The point is you're different from other Mogs," the blond says. "Naturally-born, I think that's what you call it."

"You're Garde," I confirm. "What Number are you?"

I don't actually expect a reply, especially after Hilde orders her not to answer, but the Garde clearly has a contentious relationship with her Cêpan, to the point where she would compromise herself.

"I'm Number Nine," she says.

A lie. I don't care how long they have been lying to the Mortals—Humans are idiots—I can tell that she is being dishonest. Even the best liar has a tell, a falter in the voice, maybe a shift in the eyes. When "Nine" lies, she lightly scratches the back of her neck near her jawline.

I nod anyway, knowing I will find out the answer in time.

"Trueborn," I correct her. "We call ourselves the Trueborn. The weaker ones, like the creatures you fought back in your stilt house, those were the Vatborn."

"So where do they come from?" asks Hilde.

"Vats," I say. "Where else?"

"Is that why interrogating them never works?"

"You managed to capture one?" I know that her question was a lie as well. But Hilde is far more subtle. "I'm not incredibly surprised. They're drones. Their only purpose is to be fodder for our military. But sometimes we augment ourselves with the material they're made of. Some higher-ups do that. Like my father.

"Anyway they're bred for combat. No soul, no emotions. There are programs in which they could show reactions to real life situations, like excitement, anger, stuff like that. But all of that is artificial. If you did capture one, it wouldn't have said anything."

"We captured you for a similar reason," Nine says.

"Oh really, because it looked like you were getting ready to kill me at the shack."

"I made a quick decision," continues Hilde. "That's the reason you are still alive."

"Explain it to me then," I say. "Why did you capture me?"

"To show you that what your people are doing is wrong."

I laugh quietly. What a ridiculous idea.

"You're the youngest Mogadorian we've come across. Your view is different than that of your elders."

"The fact that I am younger is the reason you shouldn't think of me as an ally. I was born hating the Loric."

"If we can't change your view now, you should see what your people did to Mogadore," says Nine. "That'll probably change the way you think of us."

Hilde leaves and goes past the wall. She handed Nine the weapon before she left, but the blond did so little as to even aim the dark blade at me. Albeit at one point Nine did seem to scrunch her face up. I don't know if it was to display disgust toward me or if it was in concentration to something else. A few minutes later Hilde shows up with a velvet bag.

She walks along the clearing, taking out glass orbs and placing them in the soil. It looks like she's putting them in an arrangement. The last orb is put into the very center of the clearing.

"What are those?" I ask.

Nine stands up and walks near the fourth orb. "Well, usually it shows our solar system, but Hilde says that with my..."

She trails off. I find it strangely uncomfortable how Nine talks to me. Like I'm some old friend she's known for years now. But the strange part is that I feel the same way.

"Never mind," Nine finishes. "I'll just show you."

Her eyes fluctuate into hurricanes of energy again. The orbs begin to glow. The one in the center glows orange for a second before turning the same shade of blue as her eyes. All of them hover in orbit as a gigantic blue projection of the Loric galaxy envelops the whole clearing. It's amazing. But of course I wouldn't tell them that.

"As you probably already know," Hilde starts, "our galaxy, and yours, is located in what the Humans call the Coma Supercluster. We call it the Pilasdel."

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" I ask. "I don't speak Loric."

"Cuiræic," Nine corrects me. "Anyway 'Pilasdel' means Plain of Stars."

"And this is important to me because..."

Hilde gets back on her lecture. "Because I want to show you how your people attacked Lorien." She points to a dark holographic ball with a red core, near the edge of the galaxy. "We assume that your people used the gravity from this rogue planet to accelerate their way into the Pilasdel before our Grid had time to detect them." One of the glass orbs, the fourth one near Nine, hovers in mid-air, orbiting the large blue sun. "And this is Lorien."

I get up and stare at their world. When we came to Earth, we were told that Lorien, just like the other planets underneath the Mogadorian Empire, was colonized and would sustain a small pilgrimage for almost five generations. This doesn't look anything like what they advertised to us at Ashwood. It's nothing to be proud of.

The surface is hideously charred black, seeming to scar over with a dead, monochromatic gray. Infinite fires burn across the surface, scorching what little is left of the ruined, leaking atmosphere. This isn't what Mogadorian Progress is supposed to look like. This is more like a nightmare for my entire species. Fire devouring the world.

"Do you see what they've done?" Nine asks me. "Is that what you want for the entire universe?"

"I've never seen this before," I reply, trying to keep my voice neutral. "This must be a mistake."

"Your species came to Lorien, butchered our people, and then drained the world of its resources."

"That's not what was supposed to happen. My people were going to trade our technology for resources. That was the mission!"

"Apparently they had different plans," Hilde says. "Or maybe they just didn't give us time to figure it out."

"We were told that you were a barbaric society on a jungle planet with just the slightest advancement of technology. That we needed to get to Lorien before you could get to us."

Nine focuses on the ground below Lorien, which is about the size of a grapefruit, having expanded when the galaxy was projected. A jagged column of earth rises up beneath it, stopping the planet's orbit. It continues rotating. The planet rotates on its side.

The surface transforms, and I see what Lorien looked like before the First Great Expansion. There is one landmass, broken only by peninsulas and islands. A large archipelago rests in the northeastern part of the supercontinent. A global ocean deluges the rest of the planet. Water. So much water. But water, as easy as it is to come by in the universe, is not what enthralls me about the orb. The entire landmass, and all of the islands, are covered with the purest green, only slightly distorted by crimson mountain ranges. Life. Water. It's everything I had imagined Mogadore as two hundred years ago, give or take. It's so beautiful, and oddly familiar to me.

A moment later, Nine lowers the column back into the ground. Lorien continues its orbit, and fades back to the destruction my people caused. The current image of the planet disturbs me beyond words. It shouldn't, and feeling this way is treason, but I feel an intense amount of sadness for the Loric. This soon ferments into hatred and anger toward my father and the Beloved Leader for allowing this to happen. For making it happen.

"Do you understand what they have done now?" asks Hilde.

I hesitate. I was born thinking of Mogadorian Progress as the reason my species has survived for so long, but now it seems like my people's idea of Progress translates into Madness. If half the destruction that happened to Lorien was inflicted upon the other worlds my people have populated, then what is the point of colonization? Of civilization? My people believe in controlling their own genetic destiny. Maybe they can manipulate their genetics to cope with utter destruction, because that's what they've caused.

"I'm not telling you anything about where my people are hiding," I say. "I have a family there, my mother, my sister. But I'll help you hurt my species for what they did. Not because any of this demonstration changed who I am or what I am. It's because I don't want this to happen to Earth. This planet is the last sanctuary in the universe as far as I believe now. And that's how it's going to stay."

Hilde gives me a half-smirk, but her eyes still glow with distrust. "How do we know you aren't just saying this to make us believe you?"

"If you don't trust me, then kill me," I reply. "They aren't above killing children. You shouldn't be either."

Hilde seems to consider this for a moment, until seeing Nine subtly shaking her head.

"It'll be dark soon," says Hilde. "We better get some rest."

I hold out my arms together, waiting for them to bind my wrists again. Anybody else would believe I'd be trusted enough by the Loric just seconds after I decided to ally with them, that I'd be treated equally the next day. I don't have that idealism. And neither does Hilde.

I'm not bound to the tree anymore, but instead they simply tie my wrists and ankles together, giving the vines around my feet more length to walk around without stumbling over. Nine digs out a pit for me to sleep in, and they make a makeshift door over it out of some stray branches. I'm grateful for the new accommodations.

As the sky darkens, Nine stops by my pit. The blonder streaks of her hair glow pinkish in the fleeting sunlight. I try to push down whatever emotional feelings that keep conjuring up whenever I look at her. Just because I have allied myself with these people doesn't mean I have to feel for them. Even if I want to.

"We're leaving this region tomorrow," she says. "If you're actually with us, I guess that means you're coming too."

"Where are we going?"

"I'll have to ask Hilde."

I nod. Nine just smiles. She looks sad, guilty. She rubs the side of her neck just below her jawline again. I realize it's more of a nervous tick or reflex than a tell when she's lying.

"So, uh, I guess I should actually introduce myself," I say, outstretching my hand. "I'm Adamus Sutekh."

She's hesitant for a moment, but then reaches out and shakes my hand. "Nice to meet you, um, Adamus."

"I prefer Adam. What's your name, other than 'Nine?'"

"It was Unity when we were in America, but now I don't really have one," Nine says. She sounds uncomfortable with this part of our already awkward conversation, and quickly changes the subject. "Hilde said that we're going to need to educate you in Cuiræic customs. I think she wants a less scrawny Mog to be teamed up with us, so I guess you'll training with me as well."

"That's weird," I say, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Yep, pretty weird."

We just stay here, staring at each other. I'm not usually good at these types of things. I rarely fit in with people my own age. Especially not with girls. Nine—I mean Unity—prepares to close the top to the pit, but stops.

"Hey, Adam?" she asks. "We can trust you, right?"

"I hope so."

Another sad smile and then she lowers the door. I lie back on the soft dirt, listening to the sounds of the forest. The humid air fills the pit, giving me a pleasant thought in my head only for a second. I think about Lorien, about its dense forests and incredible mountains. Its massive ocean with irregular yet beautiful waves. All of that's gone. And it will never come back in our lifetimes. Hilde and Unity might believe that they might return to their home one day, but I know for a fact that a destruction like that will take millions of years to recover, if it ever does at all. Lorien is dead.

I won't let that happen to Earth. They can trust me. I just have to trust myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter is more of a montage, throwing together their journeys through Asia for three years before meeting up with some more Loric. The next chapter is also narrated by Adam.


	4. No Shredder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years since the Mogadorians tried to kill Number One. Three years since the Elkin Surge burned into her soul. Three years since the Loric welcomed a Mog into their uneasy insurgency. As they travel across a strange alien planet, they must learn to coexist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is narrated by Adam. There is a bit of a romantic moment between One and him, but it's not as important as I made it in the original version. Sorry it's been quite a wait. Had homework and junk. There will be many more chapters over the next few weeks. Hope you enjoy!

As unsettling as it is, my sympathy toward the Loric Insurgency continues to grow.

After we left Malaysia, we headed for the Philippines. On a ferry. I told them about the Vatborn Scouts—how if there's a lead on the Loric, teams are sent to every conceivable place of departure, and wait. However, I don't think that my people focus on travel by boat, since back on Mogadore we don't have any aquatic transportations. Just to be safe, we still went to a sketchy port for transportation.

We dock in Manila, where Hilde takes money out of her underground bank account. Once Hilde has all the money she needs—although I doubt they need five hundred million dollars when we live in abandoned ruins—we set out to the outskirts of the country. Even though we are farther away from civilization, Hilde still imposes that Lyn—"Nine's" new alias—dyes her hair black to blend in with the native Mortals. Lyn knows about the dangers of my people, terrified of being captured. But I assume it's more of an identity thing.

Hilde finds the ruins of a small house-like structure made out of stone. It's at the base of a volcano, thick vines wrapping around what used to be windows and a roof, trying to consume the entire house. This is where we'll live for the next few weeks, if not longer. A large narra tree overhangs our base, casting a prodigious shadow in the late afternoon. That tree is where Lyn teaches me Cuiræic.

Their language is alien and confusing, similar to the Romance languages here on Earth. English alone was difficult, but Cuiræic is nearly impossible. It has over forty variations of dialects and dozens of ways to define each word. Whenever I get a supposedly easy word incorrect, Lyn flicks me on the forehead and calls me "elzax," which translates into "dumbass." However she isn't exactly an expert on different Loric dialects either.

They dug out another pit for me. This one was a bit nicer than the last, the one Lyn made for me in Malaysia. After about two weeks, they stopped binding my hands. After a month, they left the bamboo door untied. Eventually, I was free to leave the pit whenever I pleased. However I still preferred sleeping there, with a great view of Mount Mayon, the volcano we found asylum under. At night I could see the ash and smoke roll off the mountain, giving the particles within it a moonlit glow.

And, even though Hilde forbade her to do so, sometimes I could see Lyn fly up the volcano with her Legacy. Atop its peak appeared bursts and flashes of blue, like an alien lightning storm. Hilde slept right through them. I think it's the same power she displayed back on the Rajang River. She went every night, to the volcanic crater. If anything were to happen, Hilde would never know.

I guess when I stayed awake, it was also to make sure she's alright—to see that bluish silhouette, still charged of energy, return. Even if Lyn did get in trouble up there, I knew I wouldn't be capable of doing anything. Not that I should even have cared. Still, we would make small talk about it sometimes. Somehow I think Lyn knew that I was watching over her when she would go to the top of the volcano.

"Enjoy your walk?" I would say when she'd return early morning.

Lyn would always give me a flirty, cockeyed grin. "Always do."

Hilde never said she knew what Lyn was doing. But Lyn and I figured she did, because later that winter, she told us to pack our things and we left. After the Philippines, it was Thailand. We stayed until August. It was a crazy few months. Back in July, Mount Mayon erupted in the Philippines. The volcano had been active for centuries, but honestly I think it had something to do with Hilde training Lyn with her Legacy of Terra Motus. We left right before the coup in Thailand that September.

During our time in Thailand, Lyn and I started combat-training. My slight frame has never served me well in Vaalhuran combat-training, much to the disappointment of my father, the General, and the amusement of my brother Ivan. But the Cuiræic martial arts, Hainvn, physically suits me more than any other type of combat. My body adjusted to it quicker than I expected. Even Lyn has trouble getting the hang of Hainvn, and she was born of the culture that created it! I'm still not as heavily built as other Trueborn, but I have a more developed musculature than I did when training with Vaalhurans. And when I think of the Trueborn, the fear returns of having to fight against my own people. If I have to kill any Vaalhurans, hopefully it's only Vatborn. Hopefully.

When Hilde was finally ready to start practicing with Lyn's insanely powerful ability, they started working in her Cuiræic Chest, something the Garde call an "Inheritance." The Cêpan wasn't exactly keen on me watching as they delved into the secrets of the Loric artifacts. But after a bit of convincing from Lyn, I was allowed to do a monthly inventory with them. Using a strange transparent rock with a cloudy center, they managed to expand her weird blue-death power.

Next was a large village in Gilgit-Baltistan. Lyn was more than pleased to live here. We were on the bank of the Indus River, which must have stimulated memories of living on the Rajang River. But what was more incredible about Pakistan was a weather pattern I had never seen before: snow.

We stayed there for nine months, the longest I had stayed in any one place since joining them. In all honesty, those were the best—and most confusing—months I ever lived. Mostly because of Lyn. We were doing a monthly inventory of Lyn's Inheritance. It was nothing major—just a kiss—but it felt... different than I expected.

Our next stop was Patras, Greece. We were there about two days ago, before Hilde packed all our bags one night and we left at around three in the morning. I don't know what was scaring her, but she clearly felt vexed about staying there. When we leave, we rent a semi truck in the UK, and drive to the Scottish Highlands, near the ruins of an abandoned castle.

We're in the trailer of our truck, where Hilde has called us for a meeting.

"I've been thinking about long-term war," Hilde says to us. "In case this goes on longer than anticipated."

"I think that eight years is considered long-term," I reply after a moment. "My people were supposed to have killed all of yours."

"What's this about?" Lyn asks.

"By now, the other Garde must have started to develop their Legacies," continues Hilde. "You're the oldest—at seventeen, you would have had your Major Legacy on Lorien by now."

"Well, we're not on Lorien," replies Lyn. I can hear how her voice loses nerve. She has only developed two new Legacies in the past three years, and they're both mentally based, "and I still don't have my Major power."

"That's because of the Elkin Surge. As the energy settles into your system, it delays natural development. The youngest Garde should be eleven by now, and if everything goes correct, he should at least have telekinesis."

"It's taking three years for it to settle?" I ask, returning to her previous statement about Lyn's blue energy ability.

"For Elder Elkin, it took decades. But we don't have decades to spend waiting for you to be in full control of your... 'essence,'" she tells us. "Which is why we begin training soon."

Lyn's face lights up, lifting my spirits higher than she could ever possibly fly. "Really?"

"As I said, the others should all have Legacies by now. If we're going to start fighting the Mogadorians, you'll need to be ready to control your abilities."

"Yes, finally!" Lyn cheers. "Thank you, Hilde."

Hilde manages to give a small smile—for some reason it makes her look younger—before she gets back to business.

"If they have been training with Legacies, some of the Garde about your age, maybe Seven or Eight, might have started to retaliate against the Mogs. Meaning that we'll have to meet eventually."

"What about the ch—" starts Lyn, before cutting her sentence short. A second later she continues talking, but changes her voice a bit. "What are our chances of actually finding them?"

Hilde nods at her. I know they're holding something from me, but I don't know what. "We need to get them in order. For example, if we get One and Two around the same time, it'll be okay. And then Two and Three, then Four, and so on."

A thick, acrid smell fills the air. I smelled it earlier, but it was slight. "Is that smoke?"

Lyn sniffs the air. Her nose twitches in a kind of adorable way, something I can't believe I'm actually thinking.

"I don't smell anything," she replies.

I guess Mogadorian senses are stronger than Loric. I look out the window, past the verdant expanse, to see a dark column rising from the horizon.

"Shit," I say, rushing to the doors of the trailer.

I climb up the ladder on the side of the vehicle, get onto the roof. The sun is beginning to set. That thin layer of smoke is still there, over the horizon. It's black, which I think means it's still burning.

"What is it?" Lyn's voice asks. She must have teleported onto the roof. Hilde came with her, which explains why she was allowed to. Lyn's Legacy of Teleportation requires a bit more training.

I point to the smoke. "You see that?"

Hilde squints her eyes, scanning the horizon for the smoke. The moment Lyn sees it, I can hear her breath getting heavier. Suddenly she's floating a few feet in the air. Hilde looks up, eyes full of concern.

"Lyn, what are you doing?" I ask.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she goes flying through the air, straight toward the cloud of smoke.

"LYN!" Hilde calls after her.

Before I know it, I've jumped off the trailer and start sprinting after her. I know I can't keep up, even with all of the training I've gone through for the past couple of years. I don't know what has induced me to go running after her like a starving kraul. But I get it together after Hilde drives the truck next to me and yells, "Hop in!"

I open the passenger door and get into the truck, staring straight ahead at the smoke as she keeps driving. The tires drag ruggedly across the dirt ahead of us. We don't talk, but I feel Hilde's eyes drifting over to me ever so often.

"She gets these panic attacks when they're nearby," Hilde finally says, breaking the silence. "That's probably what this is."

"Well, we don't know if that was them, do we?" I reply harshly. "If it is them, then why in Ra's name would she go rushing in?"

"Maybe she felt like she could fight them now," answers Hilde in a strange voice, like she's trying to calm me.

"I'm sorry," I finally say, "about running away like that. And about—"

"Don't worry, Adam," she replies. "I get it."

"You do?"

"I won't deny that I don't like what you two have," she growls. Suddenly, I feel very unnerved about having this conversation with her. "But I understand. I've experienced the same thing."

Before I can respond, she continues and says something that hurts almost as much as an untreated knife wound. "But you have to understand that what you feel for her will never amount to what another Garde may feel. This phase Lyn is going through will only last until we find the other Loric."

I slouch in my seat a bit, and remain silent the rest of the drive over. I felt like what Lyn and I had was special. But clearly, that's not the case. Anyway, I shouldn't care. My feelings shouldn't even be a factor when it comes down to my allegiance to the Garde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that ending was little weird/pessimistic. If you haven't done this already, read Born of Ra by WarlordMan162 on my Tumblr page. It follows Ivanick Shu-Ra. They're about to line up soon. The next chapter comes later this week (I hope)!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll be going through and editing it later. I'll do the same for the other few chapters I post as well. You'll see a lot of differences here as well. If you check out my Tumblr, you'll see some excerpts and alternate chapters, maybe some spoofs and other stuff. My Tumblr is the same name I have on here.


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